


Moments of Clarity

by CreativeSweets



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Aphrodisiacs, Dissociation, First Kiss, First Time, Fuck Or Die, Genjutsu, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mind Rape, Mistaken Identity, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protectiveness, Rape/Non-con Elements, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-18 14:49:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18701773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeSweets/pseuds/CreativeSweets
Summary: Minato takes a poison bomb in place of Kakashi; later, his life is on the line and Kakashi has to make a big sacrifice for his sensei.





	Moments of Clarity

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [One of these days](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18636112) by [sultana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultana/pseuds/sultana). 



> Sometimes when you get an idea, it's just best to let it come out. So, here this is.

Minato abruptly stops and coughs violently again. That smoke bomb he took in place of Kakashi really did a number on him. His chest feels constricted and he tries to clear his throat to alleviate the feeling. It doesn't change. They're still a good two days from Konoha, he doesn't have time to let some _smoke_ get the better of him.

"I'm fine." Minato is quick to tell Kakashi when he gets a look sent his way.

There's a minute twitch in Kakashi's hands, a minute narrowing of his eyes, that tell him that Kakashi doesn't agree. However, seeing as he's the boy's sensei—and therefore a superior—Kakashi doesn't say anything. Minato's never really been thankful before for how by-the-book Kakashi is before this moment.

"Okay, look"—he coughs again and feels his face turn red from the exertion of suppressing them—"Let's make camp for today, and tomorrow we'll double time it back."

There's a scowl on Kakashi's face, judging from the sudden tenseness in his jaw. Minato nearly laughs, instead another cough comes out.

 

* * *

 

Kakashi's scowling.

He knows he shouldn't be projecting so much, not during a mission, but his sensei's complete disregard for his own health is hindering them from getting home quickly. Of course, he's trying his best to shove down the knot of guilt in his chest because Minato took a smoke bomb in his place, because he wasn't paying attention. But it's been a losing battle, seeing the next closest thing to a father figure crippled so.

Unease settles deep inside him, growing with every little pained sigh and cough. And with how red Minato's cheeks are, and how he seems to pull his layers closer, a single word trickles through his thoughts: _fever_.

Kakashi sets up one tent; he needs to stay awake, make sure his sensei doesn't get worse throughout the night.

More unease grows as Minato doesn't even crack a joke about nightmares as he sprawls out inside the tent. Kakashi gives himself thirty seconds of pacing outside the tent to think about what he knows about first-aid that's actually applicable to this situation. He gives himself another thirty seconds when all his brain could come up with was _feed a fever_. When an unhelpful _icepacks_ _placed on the neck, under the arms, and the groin can help keep internal temperatures from reaching brain-damaging temperatures_ enters his brain, he gives up, because—unfortunately—there are no icepacks in his kit.

He pokes his head into the tent. Guilt eats at him again; unable to dodge a smoke bomb _and_ unable to help the person who pushed him out of the way. His heart jumps into his throat as he rushes further in. Minato's lying still, so still, that images of his father superimpose onto the present. He roughly gives Minato's shoulder a shake with trembling hands.

 

* * *

 

Minato feels small hands grasping his shoulder, shaking him. He grunts as he gains consciousness. A soft sigh sounds out next to him. Warmth spreads from his shoulder, from the warm hands on him, down into his chest and continues downward. He almost doesn't want to roll onto his back, but does so anyways, missing that small contact that's suffused him with a _want_ that reminds him of—

"Kushina," Minato breathes out softly.

Red hair falls into his field of view as he blinks his eyes open. Kushina looks so serious, eyes holding a note of seriousness she normally doesn't have. His brow crinkles as he brings his hand up to caress her cheek, mouth open to ask her what's wrong. When her eyes dart to his hand apprehensively he freezes. Not her. His. Dark brown. Not red hair, silver.

"Kakashi."

He tries to reign in his terror. He tries to figure out why his body feels like it's touching a live wire, buzzing and tingling. He tries to remember where he's heard of this happening before.

And then he remembers, and wishes he hadn't.

The smoke bomb was more than a smokescreen. He suddenly and vehemently is thankful that it was _him_ who was poisoned. Kakashi's too young, too inexperienced.

"Sensei?"

His eyes snap back to Kakashi's. He needs to explain, needs to get Kakashi to understand, needs to say everything now, when his mind is still his own.

 

* * *

 

"I'll help." Kakashi's mind had been made up since the word _genjustu_ was said. He had blushed when Minato had stammered out the second half of the poison, the aphrodisiac. He blushed even harder when he realized that that must mean he had a hard-on.

"Absolutely not"—Minato strains as he pushes himself up to sit—"I need you to go back to Konoha; finish the mission and then you can come back with help." Minato's panting by the time he's done.

Despite all his vehement adherence to the shinobi rules, his first gut reaction is to stay, put the mission aside to care for his sensei. His hands ball into fists on his legs. Is this similar to how his father felt, on his last mission? Kakashi told himself he'd _never_ do what his father did. He's halfway to hyperventilating before his genius mind kicks back in.

"You're under the influence of an unknown poison with a genjutsu of unknown purpose. Since an episode of incoherence has already happened, your orders are null. Your knowledge of the village, its people and workings, could be crippling if someone takes advantage of you while you're incapacitated. I need to stand guard and watch over you"—Kakashi pauses to emphasize his next point—"to protect the village."

Kakashi does not add that he doubts he could make it to Konoha and back before Minato's condition gets even worse. It's barely been six hours since the smoke bomb hit him. A small part of his brain is whispering that even sensei doesn't know whether it's the more incapacitate or more lethal type of poison. But from what he's seen so far, he would place his bets on the latter. Sensei didn't tell him how to cure him, or how to make anything better.

He'll just have to wing it, then.

 

* * *

 

Minato closes his eyes and flops back onto the bedroll. He knew it was a long shot in getting Kakashi to leave, but he had to try. Kakashi made some good points, and he'd be inclined to believe them if he didn't know that their attackers were completely gone. But they are, and Kakashi's grasping at straws in order to stave off an existential crisis.

There's no time to be happy that the coughing has stopped, not when he knows what's coming next. Another wave of heat burns through him, another jerk of his cock, another zing of pleasure down his spine. Groaning, he rolls over, pushing the palms of his hands into his eyes. He had lied. He knows this poison is the more lethal kind. He had lied, and now Kakashi's going to see him descend into madness while simultaneously getting progressively hornier and hornier. _God_ , of all the times to have a life epiphany. In pretty much any other circumstance, he might actually be proud of his student's choice to not leave him. But unless he... _satiates_ the fire burning in his veins, he's done for. And with Kakashi not willing to leave...

No!

He's his student, his _young_ student. There's no way he's going to do anything sexual with him. Minato's not even sure the boy's had his first kiss yet! _Fuck_. Maybe there’s still time for him to convince Kakashi to leave him, go find someone—anyone—willing to help. He turns to go tell Kakashi, only for Kushina to be there, looking down at him worriedly.

“Oh, _Kushina_ ,” he sighs, “you always did know when something’s wrong with me.”

The back of Kushina’s hand touches his forehead and it’s a cool relief he didn’t know he needed. Reaching up, he gently grips her wrist to bring her hand down so he can kiss it.

 

* * *

 

_Sensei just kissed my palm!_ Kakashi thinks, bewildered, and then, _is that how he looks at Kushina?_ It’s a look filled with such caring, such love, that it almost makes him jealous. Almost.

Now’s definitely not the time to reflect on these thoughts, not when he needs to be thinking about ways to help his sensei. His sensei, who’s now nuzzling his hand with a happy little sigh.

Think!

Wrapped up in his own thoughts, he misses the way Minato’s eyes gleam, until it’s too late. His wrist gets tugged and then he’s suddenly laying there, Minato’s upper body pinning his own down, a leg thrown over his own that obviously helped in flipping them. He doesn’t miss the way Minato’s eyes gleam now, almost predatory as they look at him. Stunned, he watches Minato lean down closer, a surreal feeling building until it overflows inside him, almost like he’s not really here, but watching from outside his own body. Watching as Minato closes his eyes and places a light kiss on his mask, right above his own lips.

His hands are fisted in Minato’s shirt, pushing as hard as he can before he realizes what he’s doing. Turning his head, he gasps for air that seems to be non-existent, one hand forgoing the futile attempt at shoving Minato away to pull his mask down off his face.

“What’s wrong, my love?” Minato’s voice is so full of concern as one hand comes up to cup his cheek tenderly.

_He thinks I’m Kushina, he thinks I’m Kushina,_ Kakashi repeats to himself as he forces himself to make eye-contact with Minato. There’s a pause, where all Kakashi can notice is the wet thumb strokes on his cheek, and he’s struck with the realization that he’s _scared_ —something that he hasn’t felt since his father’s death.

He can’t do this.

Opening his mouth to explain this and hoping his sensei still has enough sense to understand him, he can’t actually get any words past his lips. He’s stuck with refusals and rejections on his tongue but _Minato still thinks he’s Kushina_. And if there’s anything that could destroy his sensei, it would be that. So he opts to shove his own feelings down and suddenly pulls Minato back down for a kiss—his first, he realizes as his stomach churns.

His lips tingle from the bruising force of the kiss. Desperately, he wishes that he didn’t actually admire his sensei for more than his shinobi skills. Anyone with eyes could see how nice Minato looks, and it seems that his body decides that it doesn’t care _how_ it got underneath the firm, unyielding body of his sensei. He feels himself getting hard and he breaks the kiss, more tears spilling from his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Minato pants as he rests his forehead against Kushina’s with his eyes closed. Rubbing his thumbs along her waist and her cheek, he tries to calm his breathing. She’s being worse than her normal hot-and-cold self but still, he loves her. Humming, he places a light kiss on her mouth as an apology for his thoughts running away from him. When his thumb swipes liquid up on her cheek, he snaps his head up, brow furrowing.

Kushina looks sad, a few tears spilling over. The sight shocks him enough that he just dumbly looks between his wet thumb and Kushina’s face. It should never look like that, not—not _scared_. Did he do that? No, she’s prone to getting angry, to yelling at him if he did something she didn’t want, she wouldn’t cry and stay silent. _She wouldn’t_. So why doesn’t that feel right?

“Sensei?”

There’s a visceral response to protect, to destroy whatever is making Kushina this upset. Except—

Except Kushina’s never called him sensei.

Who?

_Who who who?!?_

“It’s okay, sensei.”

Think!

The visual of Kushina confuses him too much, so he squeezes his eyes closed while he tries to logic his way through the situation he finds himself in. They’re in their bed—no, that’s not right. Birds, wind…he’s in a tent. Why?

A mission is probably more than likely. He can’t remember any mission; there’s bits and pieces that feel like a dream, nothing remotely correct logically. There’s no way his best student couldn’t dodge an obvious smoke bomb.

But…

If it were true…

He steels himself for what he might see as he carefully opens his eyes. Crying out, he pushes himself off Kakashi with a wobbly arm. No, no, this can’t be right, it can’t be right!

However Kakashi’s weight under him is solid, and he yanks his hand off _Kakashi’s_ waist fast enough that it makes his shoulder pop. This isn’t real, this can’t be real, it can’t be!

He’s not even aware he’s talking out loud until Kakashi’s finger pokes him in the forehead and the tent falls quiet. His attention shifts back to his student, back to the face he’s never seen without his mask, and the self-hate pours into him as he looks at the pillow over Kakashi’s shoulder and grits his teeth. He’s seen more than he has any right to.

This is exactly why he wanted Kakashi to leave. He’s the worst jounin-sensei there is. He can’t even protect Kakashi against himself! There’s not a hole deep enough to throw himself into for this.

 

* * *

 

Kakashi watches as Minato’s jaw sets in a deep grimace. Without his mask, he feels even more exposed—humiliated—but he fears if he put his mask back on that he’d hyperventilate. So it stays off.

It stays off as he brings a hand between the two of them to land on Minato’s tense jaw. It stays off as he admires the paleness of his fingers against the lightly tanned skin. It stays off even as he blushes under the intense stare of his sensei.

His mask pools against his neck as he takes a deep breath and meets his sensei’s gaze.

“It’s okay”—his voice cracks and he hates it, _hates it_ , but he tries again after clearing his throat—“It’s okay, sensei.”

He doesn’t mean it. He doesn’t mean it. He can’t mean it.

A long moment passes as he tightly reigns in his breathing, regulating it, along with his pulse, to not give away his terror, his apprehension. 

“I’m not taking advantage of you further, Kakashi.”

With that, Minato starts to roll off him and Kakashi hates how he it feels like he can breathe again, hates how broken his heart feels at the vehemence behind his sensei’s words.

Of course Minato wouldn’t think of him like that, it’s just a fleeting attraction on his part. The sting of the rejection gets drowned out by the static loudness of his thoughts as he notices how Minato shifts next to him. Facing away from him, but not strong enough to get out of the bed.

It’s only a temporary cure—a way to stave off the inevitable.

First the touch on his shoulder, then the kiss. The genjustu is getting harder and harder to break. Which means his _situation_ is going to just get worse and worse. Even though he reminds himself that he needs to do this to save his sensei, traitorous tears still spill out as he realizes exactly what needs to be done:

He’s going to have to have sex with his sensei. And he’s going to have to pretend to be Kushina to do it.

Or at least, have Minato believe he’s Kushina.

Looking at the top of the tent and trying to ignore Minato’s minute shifts next to him, he starts to realize how screwed he is. He’s never been intimate with anyone—never really wanted to before—and he knows that men and women are supposed to look different _down there_. How is he supposed to do this? He can’t, he can’t, he—

Minato’s soft whimper of pain cuts through his panic and he shakily wipes his eyes.

He’s going to have to.

 

* * *

 

Why is he so warm? Minato tugs off his shirt and struggles as it gets caught on his arms. He stills as he hears a giggle next to him.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you.” It’s not a question, not with Kushina, and she simply hums in reply.

Then soft fingers help untangle him from his shirt. There’s a soft kiss on his shoulder and then she’s kissing him. He brings his newly freed hands to skim along her back before one settles on her waist, the other up by her neck.

“Hey,” Kushina says in her soft voice that she only seems to use when they’re in bed together.

He takes a moment to look at Kushina. Her blush that grows more red the longer he looks, her expressive eyes seeming more shy now than ever before. She’s biting her lip and he opens his mouth to ask her about it, but then his thumb at her waist brushes skin.

“What are you wearing?” he asks her with a playful grin growing.

“Oh! Uh, do you…like it?”

It’s certainly not the dress she normally wears. But—

“I like it,” he finally says before shooting her a leer, “Gives me more access to do this.”

Without any warning, he suddenly pushes her shirt up with both his hands, letting his hands slide along her soft skin. _She’s not wearing a bra_ , he thinks with a groan. She’s just, letting him have his fill, her arms shaking as she holds herself over him with her eyes closed.

Well, that won’t do. That won’t do at all.

 

* * *

 

Kakashi gasps as his sensei _bites_ him. His dick gives a traitorous twitch as his chest’s assaulted with sensual kisses and licks. _It’s not fair_ , he thinks, _that sensei is so good at this_. He almost wishes he wasn’t. Then maybe his body wouldn’t be arching into his sensei, wouldn’t be shaking with want, wouldn’t be soiling his pants before they’re off.

But instead he allows himself to be manhandled below his sensei in his post-orgasmic bliss. Distantly, as Minato kisses him again, he thinks that the genjustu must be rather strong, for Minato to not suspect anything now that he’s shirtless, now that his pants are being tugged at.

“You’re so wet already, Kushina,” Minato rumbles into his ear.

Kakashi shivers, thankful that at least his disgust with hearing her name in his ear, in that _tone_ , gets interpreted incorrectly. Minato nibbles on his ear as he chuckles and he’s finally free of all his clothing.

Kakashi’s calm cracks. _A little bit longer_ , then this will all be over, and he can forget about it.

Hands smooth down his sides and he trembles when they reach his hips, when they push his legs apart to allow Minato between them.

_A little bit longer_.

Another kiss, this one more teeth than lip and he brings his hands to feel Minato’s chest in a parody of want. Fingers touch his thighs and his breath catches in his throat. This is it. But fate wants him to suffer longer, as Minato suddenly pulls back to kiss down his throat, his chest, further, until he’s biting at Kakashi’s inner thighs.

Kakashi’s calm breaks. His fingers of one hand grip his sensei’s hair in a punishing grasp, the other is white-knuckled in the bedroll. He’s now panting openly into the small tent—too small, so small tent, can’t breathe—as Minato places a hickey on the inside of both his thighs.

“Nnn!” Kakashi bites his lip hard to prevent him from crying out and stopping Minato as he pushes a slightly wet finger into him. Another finger joins and Kakashi can only wish for the burn to stop, the stretch nearly unbearable. Something wetter than a finger laps at him and he jerks himself away, wincing as it moves the fingers already inside him.

A strong grip on his hip pulls him back down the bed and Minato’s light laughter seems mocking, pressing into his skull like a brand, like a sign that he can’t ever escape. Whimpering as Minato’s tongue meets another finger inside him, he tries to find the inner strength. Tries to remind himself that it’s either this or his sensei dies.

It doesn’t make it easier. _A little bit longer_.

And when Minato finally wrings another orgasm from him, he’s way past the point of okay. He’s breathing heavy, something that doesn’t get better as Minato crawls over him—too close, too close, can’t breathe, _nonono_ —

Minato’s groan drowns out his cries as he’s filled. There’s a sense of fullness he’s never had before, a sense of shame that Minato is in _him_ , not Kushina. A sense that nothing will be the same after this. He can only wrap himself around Minato as his body jolts and jerks in an overstimulated state.

Once again, he finds himself feeling distant from the whole scene. It’s not really him with his sensei’s dick up his ass. _The sting says otherwise_. It’s not really him that’s allowing himself to get attacked and fucked like this. _The decision he made earlier says otherwise_. It’s not really him that’s being filled. _The heat spilling inside him says otherwise_. It’s not really him finding this experience enjoyable. _The come splattering his and Minato’s stomachs says otherwise_.

It’s not really him breaking when his sensei grips him tight and sobs into his shoulder. _The tears falling down his face say otherwise_.


End file.
